


Petals

by IceCewbs



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Lesbianism, Oh god, fem!Thane, sex?? maybe??, what have I done?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCewbs/pseuds/IceCewbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...and she outshines the Ladies of Lydia, as the rose fingered moon at sunset, surpassing all the stars..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Violet

Thane is fluid; water, fire, and shadows all at once. A force of nature, a hurricane of crippling blows. The assassin's eyes are dull, glassy, and reflect the dim light of the room. No movement wasted, no flourish or finale. Just speedy, inevitable death.

 

Shepard released her breath, air gushing through her lips like a prayer. Fear coursed through her veins, adrenaline curling her toes. She eyed the body Nassana warily, violet blood bubbling from the single wound, dripping onto the desk beneath her.

 

The drell clasped her hands in worship, the light of the city pouring from the large window obscuring her figure. Words murmured and dripped from her lips like a garbling brook, fluttering over the corpse and curbing the brutal energy of death from the room.

 

Shepard tapped at her gun nervously, clearing her throat. "That was... impressive."

 

Thane's response was delayed, hands folding neatly behind her back as she straightened from her prayer. "I am not here to impress."

 

Shepard cracked a smile, "Well, I'd certainly say I'm impressed."

 

The assassin pursed her lips, head bowing, eye glittering. "You flatter me."

 

"Well," Shepard smiled uneasily, "You willing to kick some ass?"

 

"I don't follow."

 

She winced. "Ah, you see, the Collectors are wiping out human colonies," Shepard mentally kicked herself. So much for eloquence. "We're the only one's willing to stop them."

 

Shepard waved vaguely to the two flanking her. Garrus shifted nervously in the face of the assassin, clutching at his beloved rifle. The Salarian scientist tapped incessantly at his omnitool, oblivious and muttering to himself. 

 

Thane's chin rose in thought, eying Shepard over her nose. "...I accept."

 

Shepard grinned, thrusting a hand over the desk. "Welcome aboard."

 

The drell hardly hesitated, a fluttering smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, grasping her hand. "Pleasure."

 

Armored hand met leather clad hand, clasped over the cooling corpse of Nassana. Violet light and violet blood tinting the memory indigo. 


	2. Jasmine

Thane was tall. Very tall. Now, Shepard was not a slight woman, years of N7 training assured that. But she was shorter than most human women, and certainly shorter than the drell. 

 

Which intimidated the one and only Commander Shepard more than death. 

 

Well, it was not only the drell's height that had the woman avoiding Life Support during her rounds. It was Thane's uncanny ability to be  _quiet._  Silence was not new to the Commander, but it was certainly the worst silence in the history of human-drell relations.

 

Which lead to the great and mighty Shepard shifting from foot to foot outside of the assassin's hidey hole. 

 

Glaring at the infuriatingly inviting and ever persistent green of the door lock, Shepard ran a hand through her dense, curly hair, indecision curling her lips in self disgust. 

 

Furrowing her brow, she brooded. How hard could it be? It was her  _duty_ to talk to every crew member every time she made a round. Shepard had a reputation to uphold, after all.

 

Pushing, or punching if you prefer, the lock to the door, Shepard strode in with ever deflating confidence.

 

Thane looked up from the book she was reading, a god damn  _paperback_ for Christ's sake. This woman bled and breathed sterotype. She might as well be burning insense. 

 

"Ah, Shepard," Thane closed her book, "How may I help you?"

 

"Just wanted to talk," Shepard stood awkwardly in the room, eyes flicking around. The drell wasn't much for decoration.

 

Thane eyes sparkled-- was that mirth? Lips pressing together, she gestured to the seat across from her wordlessly. 

 

Gritting her teeth, the Commander settled delicately into her chair. 

 

Thane rested her chin on her palm, looking languid and calm but coiled like a cat. Damn leather, damn muscles. Even sitting the drell towered over the human, and it had nothing to do with Shepard's sulking hunch. 

 

Jaw working, Shepard grasped for a conversation starter. "You're very tall."

 

Thane raised a brow, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

 

Stupid, stupid! Shepard cursed herself, backpeddling. "I, uh..."

 

The assassin huffed out a laugh, standing. "Let me make you some tea."

 

Shepard nodded, sinking into her chair. Dizzy with the smell of jasmine, the Commander pondered what thoughts ran through Thanes head. 

 

Shepard decided it was most likely poetic and ridiculous.


	3. Black-Eyed Susan

Shepard was not embarrassed to admit she trusted Thane. Reluctant, yes, but not embarrassed. 

 

She was also not embarrassed to let the crew see she was hurt. Reluctant, but not-- you get the point. 

 

Which is why she made a beeline to Life Support after a particularly exhausting mission, ducking her head and praying to Garrus's spirits, Ashley's god, Liara's goddess, and Miranda's perfect ass that no one stopped to chat. 

 

But seriously, how fine can one woman's ass be? It was downright criminal for so much bodaciousness to be contained in one booty. 

 

Shepard shook herself. What was she doing? Oh yeah. Thane, Life Support, hide limp, got it. 

 

So she limped on, punching the mockingly green lock and nearly collapsing into Thane's dwellings.

 

Which, surprisingly, shocked the drell. Thane stood up, lips parted and muscles tense. "...Shepard?"

 

The Commander winced, leaning against the door that had shut obediently behind her. "Yeah, that's me."

 

Thane frowned, stepping forward hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

 

"I can't say I haven't been better."

 

The assassin sighed, lips pressing in a thin line. "You are irresponsible, Commander. Go to the medbay."

 

"Nah."

 

"You expect me to help you?"

 

"Yah."

 

With a sigh, Thane helped the human into a chair, assisting to strip Shepard down to her undersuit. The drell neatly stacked the dented and burnt armor, set on dealing with it later.

 

Soothing hands and soothing medigel worked away the worst of the wounds punctured through the armor, namely a nasty gash on her thigh. 

 

Settled on her toes before the Commander, Thane gazed up, frown etched into her proud festures. "I don't know if I've missed anything, I'm not a healer."

 

Shepard smiled, "You've done well enough." She gestured to her face. "How do I look?"

 

Thane grimaced. "You have... discoloring... around your eyes."

 

"Wait, you mean I have a black eye?"

 

"Given the name, it would seem you have two."

 

Shepard groaned, slumping in her chair. "Dammit, I knew I should have taken that Krogan more seriously."

 

"Did you hand-to-hand a Krogan?"

 

"Not necessarily..."

 

Thane narrowed her obsidian eyes, huffing, "You are an enigma, Commander."

 

"Yeah, I kinda am." Shepard tipped her head back, smiling. "...What's an 'enigma?'"

 

Thane did not grace her with an answer, settling on relaxing her features and sighing.

 

Silence stretched between them, comfortably for once. 

 

Thane stood slowly, worry written in her hands, flexing the digits. "Why did you come here?"

 

Shepard froze, not meeting the assassin's gaze. "I, uh, have to go."

 

She made a move to stand and leave, but the drell's gentle hands pressed her back down. "Shepard, please."

 

The Commander shuddered, avoiding Thane's gaze. "The other place... the medbay. It reminds me of when I, uh, 'woke up.'"

 

"'Woke up?'"

 

"From death. When I died."

 

Thane was very still, calculating a response and the unshakable Commander shifted and gnawed at her lip. 

 

The assassin gently moved her hands from the woman's shoulders, cupping her face with a feather-light touch. Ever delicate, she placed a small kiss on Shepard's curls. "Get some rest, Commander."

 

Shepard nodded dumbly, and was allowed to stand. With grace and poise, she hobbled from Life Support to the elevator, mind whirling with distressing emotions. She leaned against the elevator wall, staring blankly at the floor.

 

With a huff, she pulled off her undersuit and slumped onto her bed, wishing sleep to come.

 

Thane made arrangements for med kits to be delivered to her quarters, and spent the rest of the night cycle researching human pyshiology. 

 

One extranet search revealed two types of black eyes. Thane was quite preferred black eyes on flowers, and disliked when they marred the Commander.

 

Yes, she quite preferred the flowers.


	4. Forget-Me-Not

Shepard was terrified out of her mind. She respected Samara, considered the justicar a friend, but tracking down a murderous STD-wielding daughter was not Shepard's idea of a "friendly favor." This certain chore settled nicely on the terror scale between being spaced and mystery meat tacos on the Citadel.

 

Alone in her room, she tidied; a nervous tick. Datapads, scattered clothes, not even the drawers in the bathroom were safe from her anxiety-induced cleanse. Shepard scrubbed her face, hands shaking, trying very hard not to think about murder-sex. She turned the lamp on her desk this way and that, pondering which optimal angle would give the best lighting for--

 

The door opened, Shepard flinching and whirled, scrambling for the gun that was not currently clipped at her hip, hand shoving against her side futilely. 

 

Thane stood at the top of the steps, nostrils flaring and eyes wide. Slowly, she set her raised foot at the first set, taking in the state Shepard was in.

 

The Commander cursed, straightening and praying her hair wasn't in as much of a disarray as she thought it was, or that drell could smell human sweat. Which, by the way, was beginning to drip down her butt crack. Gross.

 

"Commander?" Worry flanged in Thane's voice, brow creasing in concern. 

 

Shepard shook herself, smiling weakly. "Yeah, uh, that's me."

 

"You seem distressed."

 

Shepard huffed, dragging a hand through her hair. She tugged a corner of the bed sheet flat. "You could say that."

 

"Would it be appropriate to ask why?" The other foot shifted to the next step, the leather-clad sex dream attempting to look casual and _succeeding._

 

"I don't know." She really didn't.

 

Thane's lips pressed together, arms crossing. "Shepard."

 

The Commander grimaced, hands worrying. "I, uh..."

 

The assassin's chin raised, ever patient.

 

"I'm afraid." Shepard looked down, wincing in her own weakness.

 

Thane approached her carefully, voice soft. "Of what?"

 

Shepard waved a hand dismissively. "Sex demons."

 

"I don't follow."

 

"Samara's daughter."

 

"Ah, the Ardat-Yakshi, Morinth." Thane stared intently at the woman's face, unblinking.

 

"Yeah, the one that's going to kill me with her mind. Which is kinda like sex? Well, it is sex, but--"

 

The drell raised a hand, Shepard's mouth closing with a _clack._ Thane took a moment to ponder, choosing her words carefully. "You're scared you're going to die."

 

"Yes."

 

"Even though you've faced it before?" Thane's gaze was even and unwavering.

 

"Death is never not terrifying."

 

The assassin pursed her lips, finger tapping on her arm. "I can understand that."

 

Shepard lapsed into silence, fearing what she'd say next. She worried her lip, settling onto the corner of the bed.

 

Thane gusted out a breath, crouching to meet her eye-to-eye. "Shepard..."

 

The woman fidgeted, tugging on the sheets, not meeting the drell's gaze.

 

The drell tipped up Shepard's chin, forcing her to look up. "I will go with you."

 

"You... will?"

 

Thane nodded, eyes shining. "If I ever deem you in danger that you cannot handle, I will take care of you, Samara's duty be damned."

 

Shepard's forget-me-not eyes welled, filling with tears that threatened to spill. "Thane, I..."

 

The assassin barely gave pause, enveloping the small woman in a gentle embrace. Shepard was grateful, and buried her tears in Thane's shoulder. She soaked in the drell's warmth, reveling in the contact.

 

Oh, _gross._

 

_A crush._

 

Thane gently extracted herself, hands settling naturally on either side of the woman's face. "You are strong, Commander. No 'sex-demon' will end that." The drell's eyes glittered with mirth, a smile pulled playfully on her full lips.

 

"Yeah, I am." Shepard shared the smile.

 

" _Com_ _mander, we are due to dock on Omega in 30 minutes. I suggest you prepare."_

 

"Yeah, thanks EDI." The Commander scowled.

 

Thane stood, straightening her clothes. "I'll see you there, Commander, but you will not see me. Just know I will be keeping you safe."

 

With a formal bow of the head, Thane swept out of the room like a breeze, smelling of flowers and leather.

 

Shepard sighed dreamily, allowing a few moments to collect herself.

 

Of all the crushes she could have, this was one was largely preferred.

 

 


	5. Roses

Shepard could bodily throw a turian, stare down a krogan, and bring a bar to a frenzy with the prospect of free drinks. But the one thing Shepard, savior of the galaxy and banisher of death, could not do was flirt. It made her sweaty.

 

That or the hungry murder-demon staring languidly at her, like a panther playing with a mouse.

 

Morinth almost reminded her of Thane, the easy grace and poise. However, the assassin gained this from years of training. While the serial killer in blue had it because of confidence born of soul sucking.

 

Speaking of Thane, where was her hot green ass? She said she'd be here. Shepard tugged at her collar, hoping her nervousness and glancing eyes were considered sexy. Apparantly Morinth was into the whole terrified thing, because she kept asking question after question. Typical of someone with a soul sucking and murder fetish.

 

God, Shepard hoped she pronounced the name of that drug correctly. It was Helix right? Hallex? Fuck it, it seemed the succubus was too horny to care. Or would it be incubus? Asari were technically agender, and didn't follow any sort of gender binary. Was there a gender neutral term for sex demons? Sincubus? Incusucks?

 

Oh jesus, Morinth was very interested. Shepard hid her grimace with a smile, allowing herself to be led to the street cars. The ride was a blur of groping blue hands and whispered words, ending all to quickly and all to slowly.

 

The apartment was spacious and well decorated with weapons and drugs, but surprisingly no bloodstains. No shakles, no echoing screams of the damned... Morinth really dropped the ball on the whole sex demon decor thing. Shepard expected more for a justicar's daughter. The Commander wondered idly if Morinth had failed her Serial Killer 101 test on home decoration.

 

Her babbling and stalling was drawn to a close by a sultry curl of a finger. Shepard gulped and could almost hear her own knees knocking, and wobbled her way to the couch. I guess even the cutest displays of horror must be cut short by the need to kill.

 

The next part was... fuzzy. Like wading through a dream. Words she didn't mean and didn't want to say. Morinth's eyes taking up her entire gaze, swallowed into the inky depths as her stomach bloomed with false devotion. Her world tilted as the Asari shoved her over, straddling her and pinning her to the couch. Shepard felt the bruise Morinth sucked into the delicate skin of her neck and she whimpered. Awe and worship washed over her, threads bleeding with pestilence wrapped around her head, worse than any Prothean vision or memory of being spaced.

 

And suddenly the weight was gone, physically and mentally, leaving her sputtering and gasping. She rolled off the couch and onto the floor, ears ringing and blood dripping from her mouth, she much have bitten her tongue. She sobbed into the plush carpet, iron bars wrapping around her chest and squeezing out her breath.

 

Then the world rushed back, the sound of shattering glass and prayer in her ear assaulting her. Samara and her daughter, the monster she made, duked it out, biotics and insults brightening the room. Shepard couldn't seem to care, as her head rolled to focus on the drell clutching at her, fingers digging into her shoulders.

 

"...and Arashu grant this woman protection, wrap her in your loving embraced. Please, I beg you, keep her from the sea." Hushed prayer ghosted past her ear, Thane's arms winding around her waist and shoulders, crushing the pliable Commander to her chest and rocking desperately. 

 

"Thane?" Her voice was dull and cracked, fragile under the pressure of death. 

 

Thane pulled back, hands reaching to cup the human's face. "Siha, oh siha..." The drell made a choking sound, head slumping forward to rest her forehead against Shepards. "I thought you were gone."

 

"I'm right here." The woman managed a small, defeated smile.

 

Shepard saw a glisten in Thane's eyes, both of there heads turning from the  _crack!_ of broken bones. Samara stood, staring down at the body of Morinth, more childlike and sweet in death than in life.

 

Samara made a move to leave after a hurried thanks, but was stopped by the shaking hand of the one and only furious drell in the room. 

 

"You put her in danger." Thane's voice shook, rage dripping from every lilting note. Shepard stayed slumped against the couch, dazed and too tired to care.

 

Samara looked exhausted, her reply clipped. "I'm well aware."

 

"You could have killed her! She was..." Thane deplated, hands pulling desperarely at her own leather sleeves. "She was so close..."

 

The justicar softened, looking over her daughter's body. "I was... foolish. And rushed. I could have done better. I'm sorry... Shepard, Thane." Samara nodded to them each, exciting the graveyard.

 

Thane paused for a moment, then returned to Shepard's side. "Siha... can you move?"

 

Shepard turned her head slightly, wincing in pain. "I feel like I was thrown into a meat grinder."

 

The assassin's lips pressed together, and she hoisted the human into her arms. They reached a street car terminal, making a hasty retreat to the Normandy.

 

Shepard doesn't remember much of the trip but Thane's cool skin against her cheek, the rose red frills on the drell's throat. Crushed velvet, rose petals, blood. 

 

The Commander closed her eyes and allowed herself to sleep, preferring green to blue any day. 

 


	6. Calendula

Shepard lay gasping in her bad, face pressed into the sheets and sweat staining her shirt between her shoulder blades. She writhed in pain, groaning as tears blurred her vision. 

 

_"Commander, would you like me to call Dr, Chakwas?"_

 

"No, EDI!" Her voice was shrill and strained. "I'm... fine, thank you."

 

_"Logging you out, Commander."_

 

The human grit her teeth against the pain, cursing Miranda and her new super body. With the new increased metabolism, Shepard not only healed faster, but things worked out of her system faster. Namely, food and drugs. Especially drugs.

 

Which left the legendary space warrior to crumple under the dreaded waves of pain, no pain pill would sooth the tearing of her organs long enough to be worthwhile.

 

Seeing as her reproductive organs were not as important as say, breathing, the process had been rushed. She'd woken up too early for the unneccisary system to be completely functional. Not only was she infertile, her super healing cybernetics obviously didn't extend to one tiny detail.

 

Periods sucked.

 

Shepard knew who entered her room before the door was even open, Thane halfway down the stairs by the time the human could sit up.

 

"Siha, Shepard, EDI told me you--" The drell's nostrils flared and she breathed deeply. "...Are you bleeding?"

 

Thane rushed over the the bed, the Commander shying away and grinning sheepishly. "N-No, I'm fine..."

 

The assassin's hands fluttered uncertainly, her second set of eyelids flicking rapidly. "Shepard, I smell blood, you're bleeding."

 

"Yeah, but, uh..." Shepard turned her head away.

 

Thane's voice was hushed. "...Are you afraid I'll tell Chakwas?"

 

"No! No, I'm not worried about that. I'm... embarrassed." The human ducked her head.

 

"I... see." Thane sat on the edge of the bed, brow furrowed in confusion.

 

Shepard buried her head in her hands, groaning. "No, you don't."

 

The drell's lip quirked. "I feel like we have reached a cultural barrier."

 

"Yeah," Shepard swept a hand through her hair and sighed, curling against another onslaught of pain.

 

"Teach me. Tell me how to help."

 

She looked up at the tall drell, frowning. "Do you want to? Humans can be kinda gross..."

 

"Such is life, Siha." Thane's full lips lazed into a small smile, eyes glittering with amusement.

 

"Well, uh, human female reproductive organs... you know what a mammal is, right?"

 

Thane's head bowed, smirking. "Yes, I am aware."

 

Shepard punched the drell's shoulder, scowling. "Anyway, our reproductive organs shed their lining, to prepare for the next lining. It's kinda like a flesh membrane."

 

"What's this lining for?"

 

"Humans carry their young for nine months, and this lining is just a connector between the baby and the mother. It just makes the environment... favorable." Shepard's face brightened, hands tangling in the sheets.

 

Thane was quiet for a moment. "And this... process, it is painful?"

 

"It varies." Shepard hissed through her teeth, hand pressed to her abdomen. 

 

Thane's lips thinned. "Yes, that makes sense. Humans are mamilian. Which explains the..." She waved a hand vaguely at the Commander.

 

"The what?" Shepard was on the defensive, glaring at the hot alien. 

 

"The chest lumps."

 

Shepard scoffed and pushed the drell, which was like showing a brick wall. "You're unbelievable."

 

"That I am." Thane hummed, fingers tapping on her knee. "May I educate on drell anatomy?"

 

"Shoot." The human attempted to keep cool, muscles twitching in effort to not let the pain show.

 

The assassin held out her hand. "Drell skin has vestigial poisons, toxins. Since we've evolved beyond the need of them, they're no longer potent."

 

Shepard blinked. "You have poisonous skin."

 

"In a sense, yes."

 

"So like a frog?"

 

"I don't know what a frog is." Second set of eyelids flicked.

 

"I'll tell you about it another time, continue with your lesson, oh wise teacher."

 

Thane's eyes narrowed marginally. "Well, this toxin to humans is a very mild numbing agent. Very similar to balms and rubs uses for inflammation and swelling."

 

"Oh my god, you have Tiger Balm sweat."

 

"I don't know what a tiger is, either."

 

"Now I know you're fucking with me."

 

Thane smirked, then faultered, suddenly shy. "I think... it will help."

 

"Help?" 

 

"With the, uh..." The assassin cleared her throat. "You're mamilian thing."

 

"Oh."

 

"...Should I try?"

 

"I mean, sure, go ahead." Shepard bit her lip. "How do you want to do this?"

 

Without answering, Thane rose and settled behind the woman, legs on either side of her. She hesitantly pressing a hand against Shepard's abdomen, fingers barely brushed the band of the Commander's low hanging sweats, palm pressed against the center of pain.

 

Shepard sat frozen, between the legs of a gorgeous woman and three moves away from a galactic incedent. No pressure.

 

Thane relaxed against the stacked pillows, chest vibrating as she hummed. Her chin rested on the Commander's head, fingertips applying slight pressure to the human's dark skin. 

 

It took a moment for the toxin to take effect, cooling and mildly numbing only the immediate area of Thane's hand. Shepard sighed, melting against the expanse of smooth muscle and leather. 

 

"Better?" Thane's voice was muffled by her hair, breath gusting past the woman's ear. 

 

Shepard nodded sleepily, exhaustion written into her bones. 

 

The drell purred, wrapping the human in an embrace. "Sleep, Siha."

 

That was all she needed to drift off.

 

\-- 

 

A few hours later, Shepard woke, relaxed and warm. The orange glow of an omnitool set her blinking, and was quickly dimmed.

 

At some point during the night, Thane had gently settled the sleeping human under the blankets. The drell still leant against the pillows, intently scanning her omnitool.

 

Shepard peeked over the covers to get a glance at Thane's omnitool, feeling like a kid about to be caught staying up too late. When she realized what Thane was doing, she struggled not to coo in adoration.

 

Thane was searching for remedies for menstrual pain; teas and heating pads. The drell even had tabs open of the specific sciences so painfully at work in Shepard's uterus. 

 

Who knew an assassin would make the brutal Commander melt like a school girl. The drell was dreamy, but who would have guessed?

 

A chuckle startled Shepard out of her daze, remembering that Thane was a creature born of the hunt and fooling her up close would be near impossible. 

 

"I see you're awake." Thane rubbed soothing circles into her shoulder, blue light from the fishtank glinting off of the drells scales. "Rest, Siha, it is still late."

 

"Sure, mom." Shepard grumbled, thankfully sinking back into the welcoming bed. This pulled another chuckle from the assassin.

 

As Shepard settled into sleep, she felt a delicate kiss press against her hair, long fingers stroking the strands.

 

The savior of the galaxy could get used to this kind of comfort. 


	7. Wolf's Bane

Omega was a shit hole. It was toxic, rancid, and so deeply cast in shadow that morals were hard to dig up, bleeding from one evil to the next like watery paint. 

 

But at least it didn't lie about its true nature behind smiling clerks and polished floors. The Citidel was just as poisonous, filled to the brim with racism, political bullshit, sex and drug trafficing, murder. And to top it off, a fine layer of costume makeup was slathered so nicely on top, no one bothered to notice how rotten the Citidel was.

 

Shepard could drink to that, so she did. She thought back to the conversation that led her to be crammed into a plush booth in one of the Citidel's finest bars. Thane's life spilling onto the table, her wife, her son. How her childhood had been whisked away by a call to war. Without a perfect memory, Shepard couldn't recall every detail. But she could still feel the pain in Thane's eyes like live coals.

 

Shepard sighed, sinking deeper into the seat. Tracking Kolyat had been difficult, stealth was not something she was good at. She was good at bolting across battlefields with a shotgun, her favorite assassin watching her back with deadly precision. 

 

Thinking about being alone in the catwalk made her shudder. She didn't like the dark, she had died in the dark. Shepard couldnt risk lapsing into panic, especially not on a mission so critical. Shepard wasn't used to watching Thane's back, it set her stomach twisting with unease. 

 

Shepard rubbed her knuckles, hissing at the swollen skin. She hadn't punched Kolyat hard, mindful of her armor. But she'd hit badly, bruising herself more than him. Her N7 instructed would be fucking pissed if he knew.

 

Sheoard nearly jumped out of her skin when a shadow dropped over her, her drink sloshing onto the table and dripped onto her lap. 

 

She looked up, glaring at Thane's soft, teasing smile. "Jerk. You scare me just for fun."

 

"To keep your reflexes sharp, Siha." Thane carefully mopped up the mess with napkins, carefully dabbing Shepard's lap.

 

Shepard scooted farther onto the booth, patting the seat next to her. Wordlessly, Thane settled into the seat, hands clasped.

 

They sat in silence, Shepard sipping and Thane praying. 

 

"How did you find me?" 

 

Thane's eyes glittered in the pulsing light of the club, an easy smile twitching at her lips. "We all have to have some secrets Shepard." She reached over and gently lifted the Commander's hand, inspecting the bruises. 

 

"Sorry for punching your son." Shepard shifted in her seat uneasily. 

 

"Better than a bullet." The words were whispered, Thane's grip tightening slightly. 

 

Shepard extracted her hand, lifting up Thane's face to see tears streaking down her dark scales. "Oh, Thane..."

 

"I should have tried harder." Thane's voice cracked. "I was an awful mother, an awful wife. I could have done better." The assassin's hand gripped the table so hard Shepard feared it would splinter into pieces.

 

Shepard hummed and rested a hand on the drell's shoulder. "Thane..."

 

Shepard had forgotten how fast the assassin was, swept up into a hug in Thane's long arms, crushed to her chest. The Commander's breath huffed out, noting how awkwardly their bodies were twisted.

 

"I can't..." Thane's breath was shaking on her shoulder. "I can't lose you."

 

Shepard was stunned into silence, stiffening. 

 

Thane pulled away, tears smeared and her mouth twisting into a sheepish grimace. "I, I'm sorry, that was too forward of me."

 

Shepard smiled, raising glaas to her lips. Why do we only hug when something bad's happened? Let's get drunk." 

 

Thane laughed, wiping her face. "How about you drink and I'll make sure you get home in one piece?"

 

"Always got my back, Thane." Shepard kissed the drell's cheek lightly, and quickly went back to sipping her half-spilled drink.

 

Thane smiled, and ordered the human another.

 

An hour later, Shepard was a giggling mess. She spilled stories of her N7 training, some of the lighter stories of her childhood, and her drinks. 

 

She was leaning on Thane, whispering a story like a secret. Her speech was only slightly slurred, and was peppered with giggles. Shepard felt Thane stiffen, and she looked up.

 

A human man was standing next to their booth, eying Shepard like a piece of meat. "Mind if I join you two?"

 

Thane's nostrils flared and a possessive hand snaked around Shepard's waist. "Yes, we would mind."

 

"Just wanted to see if I could join the fun." He inched closer, smirking. Shepard could smell his cologne from across the table, her nose wrinkling.

 

"I'm gay." Shepard purred, or at least tried, kissing Thane's cheek, ignoring the soft rumble in the drell's chest.

 

"Never stopped me before."

 

Thane was lightning, a blade slipping from her boot and slamming it onto the table, lips peeled into a snarl like a wolf. Her eyes were live coals as she hissed. " _Leave."_

 

The man skittered away, muttering insults. Shepard blinked at the assassin, who had settled back into her seat but hadn't removed her hand. "Why'd you do that?"

 

Thane was silent for a moment. "...He had drugs."

 

"Not the good kind?"

 

"Not the good kind. The kind that would hurt you." Thane's hand tightened on her hip, pulling her closer.

 

"Oh." Shepard's mind was a little slower with the drink, but the fear processed immediately. She sobered quickly. "Can we go home?"

 

"Yes, Siha." Thane buried a kiss in her hair and helped the human to her feet. 

 

Shepard stumbled her way to the Normandy, leaning on Thane's shoulder. Her mind wasn't as foggy, but her feet felt heavy and clumsy. 

 

Thane helped Shepard into bed, pulling off her shoes. Without a word, she turned to leave.

 

The Commander tugged on the drell's sleeve. "Wait." Thane turned back. "No kiss goodnight?" 

 

Thane paused, second set of eyelids flicking. "You're drunk, Shepard."

 

"Doesn't mean I haven't wanted a kiss for a long time." Shepard pouted, pulling on Thane's captured hand.

 

Thane's lips twitched into a smile, and she leaned over, kissing the Commander. Too soon, she pulled away and smiled lightly. "Goodnight, Siha."

 

Shepard stayed awake for a long time, trying to commit the kiss to memory. Alas, humans do not have perfect memory, and the kiss was blurred with sleep.


	8. Lily

For lack of better word, Thane and Kasumi were friends. The talked of religion and politics, and traded each of their respective species history. But mostly they sat in silence, wordlessly trading books and caring for weapons. Besides Shepard, Thane had few she was close to. Having Kasumi around was nice, silent companionship. She'd learned long ago not to "borrow" any of Thane's meager possessions, and instead moved on to hide objects around Life Support to mildly inconvenience the assassin.

 

For better or worse, they were friends.

 

Thane could barely tell that Kasumi was up to mischief-- granted, she always was. But this time, the thief took special caution to carefully guard her emotions and words, feigning casualty. If it wasn't for this, Thane would have never noticed.

 

The assassin took a careful sip from her cold tea, setting down the mug. "I assume you have something to tell me? Or are you going to pilfer my things again?"

 

Kasumi snorted. "You don't have anything I want. Wish I'd known drell didn't wear underwear, waste of my time."

 

"I didn't know you had a fascination with under clothes." A brow ridge rose, book forgotten in Thane's hands.

 

"Only from pretty people." Kasumi's mouth twisted into a pretty smile, eyes hooded.

 

"I'm imagine there are quite a few crew members you've stolen from." Thane rubbed idly at a spot of spilled tea.

 

"Stolen is such a harsh word, I prefer 'borrowing.'" Kasumi settled back in her seat, mock offended. "Can you imagine that Samara doesn't even own a bra? I mean it's kinda obvious with the whole catsuit thing, but even Tali has one! But I think it's from a girlfriend, it's not even in her size..."

 

Thane sighed, holding up a hand. "You may stop, I did not need to know these things."

 

"Did you know that Jacob has Captain America boxers?"

 

"I don't even know who Captain America is." The assassin grumbled, rubbing at the aching spot between her eyes.

 

"Oh, just a human thing..." Kasumi trailed off, waving a had dismissively.

 

"What are you here for, Kasumi? You're stalling." Thane's hands folded, ever patient.

 

"You're no fun." Kasumi pouted, but quickly produced a scrap of cloth from one of her many hidden pockets and set it gently on the table, mouth curling with mirth. "Ta-da!"

 

Thane eyed the fabric, confused. "What is it?"

 

Kasumi huffed, snatching the scrap and shoving it into the drell's face. "You don't know? I'd thought surely by now you'd seen this..." Kasumi gasped, and shot up. "No! Don't tell me!" The thief groaned in agony, slumping in her chair with a dramatic hand flipped up to her forehead, the cloth still gripped in her gloved fingers.

 

"You're not making any sense." Thane's reply was dry, annoyed by the human's ambiguity.

 

Kasumi delicately spread the lacy fabric on the table. "This... is the Commander's underwear."

 

"You stole Shepard's underwear?" Kasumi's reply was an enthusiastic nod. "You broke into the Commander's room... without being caught?"

 

"It took me days!" Kasumi dumped a handful of small metallic chips onto the table. "But, I pulled a bunch of Cerberus bugs from the vents and most of her room, so I don't think she'd be too mad. Can you imagine how many sensors and alarms I had to disable to get into one room?"

 

Thane rattled out a sigh, scrubbing her face with a hand. "All to, what? Get her underwear?"

 

"This is for _you."_ Kasumi slid the bit of cloth, the underwear, closer to Thane. "I did this as a friend, your wingman."

 

"You have wings?"

 

"C'mon, you don't have a word for that in... whatever language you speak? Wow, these translators really dropped the ball..." The thief frowned. "I'm trying to get you laid."

 

"You mean sex?"

 

"Yes!" Kasumi practically hummed with energy.

 

"With the Commander?"

 

Kasumi bit her lip and nodded, sweeping the bugs from the table into one of her pockets. "I've seen how you make eyes at her. And she just can't stop talking about you."

 

Thane was quiet, unsure. "She... She talks about me?"

 

The thief nodded, gloved hand pulling on the lace of the Commander's underwear. "I think she even bought this for you."

 

"To wear?"

 

"Ya know, it's really annoying when you pretend not to understand things."

 

Thane smiled, foot tapping nervously. "But... I've told her about my wife, my son..." She looked away. "We're not even the same species."

 

Kasumi gusted an exasperated sigh. "Look, you like her, right?" Thane nodded hesitantly. "And she likes you?"

 

"I cannot answer for her." Thane stilled her foot, willing herself to take a soothing gulp of tea.

 

"Oh please," The human snorted, settling back in her seat and crossing her arms. "If you can't, I will: she is absolute head over heels for you."

 

"...Okay."

 

Kasumi jumped forward, halfway on top of the table. "I mean, you've kissed for Christ's sake! You two are stalling like a bunch of schoolgirls. We're all on a mission to _die,_ in case you've forgotten, and at least some of us deserve to get laid before we jump through space straight into enemy territory. So instead of going down the straight path to death, be a little gay first."

 

"Was that a joke?"

 

"Yes, it was."

 

They stay in silence, Kasumi settling down from her speech and Thane brooding.

 

After a time, Thane shifted in her seat, clearing her throat. "...How?"

 

"How what?" Kasumi blinked under her hood.

 

"How do we... consummate our relationship?" Thane's frills heated, and she scratched at her throat.

 

"'Consummate,'" Kasumi mimicked the drell. "You're so formal. And don't worry about the how, darling, I got you covered."

 

The assassin raised a brow in question.

 

Kasumi practically purred, settling her chin on her hands, lily-white skin reflecting the small light of Life Support. "I've sent you a few links. You really should thank me, they're all quite educational. And I've already asked Mordin to discuss specifics with you."

 

"Specifics?" Thane grimaces, regretting the human's help already.

 

"I mean, you do have freaky alien genitalia, right? You are green and... lizardy." Kasumi held her hands out in apology in the face of Thane's glare.

 

Thane huffed a breath through her nose, casting a glance at Shepard's under clothes. "And what are these for?"

 

"Those, my dear assassin, are a gift." Kasumi fizzled out of existence, smile wide and mischievous.

 

Thane nearly started when a sharp _ping!_ sounded from her omnitool, several messages from Kasumi waiting for her attention, and one from Mordin. Things were about to get... complicated.

 

Hours later, Thane sat on her bed, holding her head in her hands. Kasumi's links had been educational, but all had been made for a more recreational purposes. Videos of human woman and drell women. Thane shuddered thinking about it, feeling like she had somehow betrayed Shepard by researching human physiology. The visit with Mordin had been uncomfortable, including a very extensive physical. Ointments and other... unsavory things had been set on the table, next to the underwear Thane had no idea how to deal with. Mordin had also provided instruction guides and some more formal videos.

 

The assassin's stomach twisted in knots. She didn't know if she was even ready for a relationship, much less sex. When Irikah had died, Thane felt nothing more than rage. When the people who killed her died, the drell was left empty. Shepard had reawakened her, ignited life and fire in her, reunited her with her son... but Thane did not want to betray Irikah. She did not want to rewrite her precious memories, Thane did not want a replacement. That would be cruel to all parties involved.

 

But Shepard was not Irikah. She was unique and precious and _strong._ So, so strong. Thane groaned, wracked with indecision.

 

After hours of meditation and reliving memories, the assassin came to a solemn conclusion. 

 

Thane was fond of Shepard, enraptured with her, maybe even loved her. She thought of her ocean eyes and dark skin, basking in the memory of Shepard, her Siha. With a sigh, she rose from the ground, limbs creaking in protest. Eying the offending objects, ointment and panties alike, and dumped them into a drawer. Thane would never approach the idea of sexual relations with Shepard again. They were confusing and embarrassing, and the possibility of ruining such a relationship was not worth the risk.

 

Later, thinking back on the delicate fold of lace and the silky feel of cloth on her fingers, Thane promised she would never make advances on Shepard unless the Commander wished it.

 

And by the goddesses did Thane pray she did.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Daisy

Sheoard plopped into her seat, brooding. A fingernail scratched insesently at the metal of the table, glaring holes into Thane's forehead that peeked over her book. 

 

With a gentle sigh, the drell marked her place in the well-loved book, setting it aside and clasping her hands. "May I help you, Siha?"

 

Sheoard scratched away at the table, a hand digging through her hair. She blurted with little grace. "You're a lesbian, right?"

 

Thane paused, taken aback. She calculated her answer carefully. "Drell don't have set sexualitis  like humans do... But I say that, yes, by your terms, I am."

 

"So your wife was a woman?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And you have a son."

 

A browridge raised. "Indeed I do."

 

"With your wife."

 

"I'd hope so." A small smile glinted over the assassin's well-defined lips.

 

"Thane," Shepard was exasperated, pausing her scratching only to rake her fingers through her hair and wipe sweat off of her palm. "This is no laughing matter."

 

"I don't understand what you're upset about." Dual eyelids flicked over obsidian eyes.

 

"How?"

 

"How?"

 

" _How?_ "

 

"How did I... Have a son?" Thane blinked in her confusion, staring down at the table. Shepard nodded uneasily. 

 

Thane looked up, frowning. "With my wife, of course."

 

"But you're both women, that doesn't work." Shepard huffed in her frustration, color blooming in her tanned cheeks.

 

Realization dawned on the drell, Thane sitting forward to grasp the humans hand. "Forgive me, Siha, I had forgotten that Drell vary vastly from humans in culture and gender."

 

"What do you mean." She subconsciously ran a thumb over Thane's knuckles.

 

Storing the memory for later, Thane paused, sighing through her nose. "Drell gender... doesn't exist."

 

"What does that mean."

 

"Like some species on Earth, Drell are more... flexible with sex and gender."

 

"Flexible? You mean you can switch?"

 

"In an environment that lacks on sex, male or female, the prodominent sex will transfer to the other sex. Now, this is less common, considering that is how our species survived. But this change can occur with diet changes and hormone doses."

 

"So... Drell can go from male to female and back again no problem?"

 

"Well, its more complicated than that. We have a set amount of times we can change."

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Not only is it excruciating painful, we lose and replace all of our teeth each transformation. The average number of sets of teeth stored in a drell jaw is seven."

 

"So... do the bits change?"

 

"Bits, Siha?" Thane's brow furrowed.

 

"Ya know... the sexy bits."

 

"No, there is no genitalia change other than hormone based change."

 

"Wait, you have both?"

 

"Both sex organs? Yes."

 

"I don't follow."

 

The assassin's eyes glittered with mirth. "I have the ability to produce an egg and produce semen."

 

Shepard winced. "Gross."

 

"From your presepective it might be a bit... odd, yes."

 

They sat in silence for a moment, considering. Shepard broke the silence, resuming her scraping away at the thin metal. "So, why do you lose your teeth every change."

 

Thane dropped her chin to her chest. "Despite no change in organs, our bodies undergo huge physical change. Male drell are smaller, with more compact muscles. Drell women are larger, taller and wider, but muscle density is given up."

 

Shepard scrubbed a hand over her face. "Explains the tall thing."

 

Thane smiled. "Yes, it explains the tall thing."

 

The Commander grimaced. "So... All drell have both reproductive organs?"

 

"Aside from some genetic variations, yes."

 

"And you've undergone this change?"

 

"Twice, one to produce my son and one for... more selfish reasons."

 

"Why?"

 

Thane stared at her hand, clasped in Shepard's. "My wife, she... liked me like this."

 

Shepard's reply was soft. "Oh."

 

The drell smiled, bringing her lips to her Siha's knuckles. "I do not mind, if I was not in this form, a certain human would not take interest in me."

 

Shepard blushed and grumbled. "Yes, I would have..."

 

Thane laughed, returning to the yellowed pages of her book while Shepard pondered, thoughts running through her head. The drell hummed, day dreaming of past memories, of the wild flower fields that decorated Kolyat's childhood home, almost feeling to stems of daisies gripped between her fingers.

 

 


End file.
